


Mourning Doves, Telephone Wire

by GalaxyAqua



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Conversations, Gen, Post-Chapter 1, but sometimes that is comforting, not closure just a conversation, unfortunately one conversation can't fix everything but company is nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21986146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyAqua/pseuds/GalaxyAqua
Summary: Hoshi, Shinguuji, and a conversation about grieving.
Relationships: Hoshi Ryoma & Shinguji Korekiyo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49





	Mourning Doves, Telephone Wire

The weather is surprisingly bleak when Shinguuji steps outside. 

He isn’t in search of anything in particular. He has had his time to explore the school grounds and knows well enough all the places he could theoretically go to rearrange his thoughts — but he had been doing far too much of that lately and hoped, perhaps, for a slight change in pace. 

He does not fear monotony, of course. Rather, he fears stagnancy. 

Should it come to a point wherein he feels too much at ease here, he would be devastated. He has his goals to meet, and so much more of the world and it’s overflowing humanity to experience, and as beautiful as it is to call somewhere home, he cannot afford it. 

Even if he must force discomfort, he will, so that staying here is not appealing anymore. He has never called anywhere home since _she_ has been gone and that will not change. 

The wind picks up as he enters the main strip that leads to the school building, his hair billowing out behind him. The building is a tantalizing option, what with its many undiscovered secrets and of course, the places that have opened up since the trial still require a thorough inspection. 

But, with a slight preference to remain outdoors for a while longer, he starts to take a walk. 

With a mind that doesn’t sleep, it is upon his walk that he continues to look around and observe his surroundings. That is how he finds him. 

Hoshi is perched on the stairs in the courtyard, turning an apple in his hands. Shinguuji fixates on the movement from a distance, not wanting to intrude on the peaceful solitude of the other but having no place to be so early in the day. 

“Good morning Hoshi-kun,” he greets politely. 

“Morning,” Hoshi offers back. “Going on a walk?”

“A stroll,” Shinguuji nods. “I figured it might assist in clearing my head… it seems we had a similar thought in mind. What is it that brings you out so early?”

“Just thinking.”

“Oh?” He questions curiously. “What of, if I may ask?”

“You don’t really wanna know.”

“I do,” Shinguuji insists, eyes alight with interest. “Please enlighten me. I would very much like to know.”

Hoshi shrugs. “You can probably make a good guess. You’re smart.”

“I would like to hear it from your perspective, though,” his hand comes up to cover his mouth. “I do appreciate the compliment though, sincere or otherwise.”

“Why would I lie about that?” Hoshi asks with a squint, before shaking his head and dismissing it. “Well. Fine. Sit down.”

Shinguuji lowers himself without much hesitation, folding onto the staircase beside him and momentarily admiring the fact that they had such a vast difference in height. It did, however, feel more comforting to speak to Hoshi at this level — less like he is talking down to him, and more that they are just talking. 

“So I was thinking…” Hoshi sighs, pausing to take a bite of his apple. 

“Yes…?”

“... about Amami and Akamatsu dying.”

The words strike Shinguuji out of his lofty reverie, his curiosity coming to a pause. Hoshi continues, as if feeling awkward about blurting it out like that. 

“I guess I just- it was rough. That kind of punishment, I mean. She was so determined, wasn’t she, so sure that she would survive that she fought for so long… and still. Still, she couldn’t be saved.” He pulls his hat over his eyes. “What a waste of a life. I could’ve… anyway, that what I was thinking about. Couldn’t get it out of my head all night, so I figured there was no point in trying. I’m here to clear my head too, some way or another. I mean, it’s not like I really knew ‘em but they didn’t deserve to die.”

Shinguuji hesitates for the barest moment, but gives no indication of having been caught off-guard. 

“My, my, you certainly don’t cut corners, do you? Here I am, on a nice peaceful morning stroll, and Hoshi-kun is sitting here thinking about death.”

“Don’t act so coy. It’s not like you were thinking about something else. I mean, if you’ve moved on already, you’ve got some damn guts.”

“I have done no such thing. It is remarkable how human life is always so precious and fleeting,” Shinguuji embraces himself gently, closing his eyes. Reverence flows through him. “I wish Amami-kun and Akamatsu-san well, and may their beautiful souls find rest wherever they may be.”

“Dead, you mean.”

“Goodness, Hoshi-kun, what a brusque response,” Shinguuji says in a rather interested tone, wondering if he will finally bear the brunt of Hoshi’s true emotions, and what a wonderful sight that would be to behold. “Aren’t you usually a slight bit more tactful than that?”

“Is there any point?” Hoshi sighs, but it isn’t cutting. Only tired. “With someone else, I might’ve let it go a little nicer, but I know you’re not exactly…” he gives him a brief once-over. “Faint of heart. Or, well, squeamish, I suppose. Probably shouldn’t say fragile, but doesn’t matter. You don’t look it, either. Not really.”

“Am I not soft-hearted and fragile in your eyes?” Shinguuji asks, before smiling to himself behind the mask, cupping his own cheek dearly. “Merely a jest, of course. I understand completely, I am not one that will shy from death, nor do I find taboo in speaking of it. Death is inevitable, as is loss. It is so very human, and so there is much beauty to witness in it.”

Hoshi doesn’t choose to comment. 

Simply stares back down at the apple, contemplative. 

“Hey. Lend me your brain for a bit, won’t you?”

“Lend you my brain…” Shinguuji blinks, head tilted slightly in curiosity. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

“I wanna discuss the way Amami died again.”

“Ah,” He says, mentally filing through his memory of the past day or so in an attempt to figure out _where_ exactly Hoshi is coming from. It likely wasn’t an invitation to prattle over the painfully beautiful way it all played out. Such a wonderfully staged death. Such a marvellously executed crime. The way his body lay there, so naturally splayed, almost as if in slumber, but persisting in death… “I believe it was all made clear, yes? Saihara-kun was the one who explained it to us — Akamatsu-san’s plan, if you’d kindly recall. The shot put ball, the cameras with their timed intervals, and certainly the bookcase, I-”

“Not that.” 

Shinguuji’s words fall short at the curt interruption and he laces his fingers together in his lap. He remains unbothered. People do enjoy interrupting him, and that aspect of humanity is beautiful, too.

“If not that, then what is it that you wish to discuss?”

“Well, wasn’t there something suspicious about it?”

“Kukuku, the two of you are at such odds,” is Shinguuji’s instinctual response. “I doubt Amami-kun would appreciate that turn of phrase, dear Hoshi-kun. He was always insistent on the notion he wasn't suspicious, after all. But I mean, to claim to end this game…? Such ambitions can only be met with downfall, don’t you agree?”

“Hmph. Right. But that’s not my point.” Hoshi clips. His walls rise visibly, face turning away from Shinguuji as he hurriedly bites into his apple again. After a moment of stony silence, he chews, swallows and adds a dismissive, “I shouldn’t have asked. Forget it. It’s uncool of me to bring up something now.”

“Please, you’ve sparked my curiosity, and I am so very intrigued by what you may have observed…” Shinguuji tips his hat in a manner that would ideally be parsed as polite. The other seems to care awfully little for it. “What, pray tell, was so suspicious about Amami Rantaro’s death?”

Hoshi takes another bite, seeming to consider whether he wishes to answer or not. The languid defeatedness in him wins out in the end, the tennis pro shutting his eyes and pressing a hand to his temples. 

“Geez… alright, fine. I’ll talk. No point in keepin’ it to myself, really. How close did you get to him?” Hoshi asks, and his voice lowers on the tail end of his proffered thoughts. “The body, I mean.”

“Close enough to examine the wound, if that’s what you’re asking.” Shinguuji crosses his arms over his chest, taking an understated pleasure in the meagre rise and fall of it. Life is so beautiful yet so fleeting, after all. “And it was a definitive head wound, of course. Still fresh when we had arrived. Had I more time, I would have liked to converse with his corpse, I think. It is a pity that Akamatsu-san was against the idea… though, in hindsight, I suppose it makes sense. It’s a rather bitter thing, hindsight, don’t you agree?”

He would like to think that Hoshi looked rapt with attention — enough to sympathize with such missed opportunities and the like — however, looking back at the tennis pro, all he seems to be is tired. 

“Guess so,” Hoshi answers. 

_What an anti-climax,_ Shinguuji laments. 

“The head wound doesn’t make sense, though. That’s the thing that bugs me.” Hoshi continues, nose scrunching a little. “How did it end up hitting the back of his head if it fell from above? He would have been looking up.”

“Well, we cannot parse the angle specifically,” Shinguuji reasons. “Amami-kun might not have been looking up at all. There is no evidence for the fact, and since nobody here will allow me to speak to his spirit, you will likely never know.”

Hoshi looks at him. Takes a bite out of his apple. “You think it just dropped on ‘im like that?”

“Hmm… well, I must ask you this, Hoshi-kun. Why are we disputing this now? Akamatsu-san herself confessed to the crime.”

“Details make all the difference,” Hoshi replies distantly. “I would know. Besides, we were all running on low fuel at the trial. It went on for several hours and nobody was in a good state of mind. ‘Specially not after Akamatsu… anyway. There could have been things that were missed.”

“You’re grieving,” Shinguuji concludes, quite simply, bringing his knees to his chest. “You don’t want to believe what happened was the truth. You’re so wonderfully human, Hoshi-kun, truly remarkable.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” The apple core is rolled between his fingers, and one of the seeds falls out. “I just… they were both so…” He sighs. “Don’t worry about it. You’re right. They’re dead no matter what, so there’s no use in overthinking it now.”

“Grief is going to loom over you for quite some time, if you keep it only to yourself,” Shinguuji muses, tipping his hat again. “Do be aware that I am willing to hear you out, whether you overthink it or not. Please don’t misunderstand… I know that grieving is a difficult process.”

“I’ll say.”

“You seem more intimately familiar with the concept than most,” Shinguuji observes with a light tone. “Considering the sobriety of your expression.”

“Yeah. Seems it would be that way. What’s it to you?”

“The ways humans fall to grieving is so very beautiful, you see,” a breeze passes, and Shinguuji smiles behind his mask. “And I, for one, am in a persistent state of it.”

“Grieving? You?” Hoshi asks. “Not that it’s any of my business but what… what on earth for?”

“Death, of course.” Shinguuji says, and doesn’t elaborate much further. “It surrounds me, always. I cannot help but grieve. I don’t mind sharing irrespective of who’s business it is, Hoshi-kun. As I have stated, I do not treat death as a taboo. We all experience it in our lives. It is as natural as birth, yes? Alas, such things have to be learned.”

“So you’ve lost someone too, huh?” His expression turns bitter, before an unspeakable sadness seems to wash over him. “Then maybe you understand.”

“Ah, please don’t be mistaken. By ‘lost’, you are implying that she is no longer with me, correct? However, that is not true. She is always… with me.”

“… I see.” Hoshi pauses, before the dry curl of a smirk tugs at his lips. “Heh, it might be strange for a guy like me to say but you know, Shinguuji, despite everything… you are surprisingly naïve.”

Shinguuji closes his eyes. He is so very amused, evidently, at the choice in words. “Is that how you perceive me? Kukuku… That is far from the usual perception, Hoshi-kun, but a wonderful observation nonetheless…”

Hoshi smirks slightly wider. “You wouldn’t really think it looking at you, but things like telling someone that a soul lives on after death… that’s the kind of thing you tell a kid when they don’t understand the reality, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I understand the reality very well,” He replies. Not at all offended, rather, delighted to be able to impart information. “The fact of the matter is, ghosts truly do exist and they do not have to part from this world until they choose to. A person’s soul can take on many forms. They can still exist here after death.”

“I guess we’ll believe anything to cope with losing someone.” Hoshi shrugs. “I don’t really blame you. If I believed in anything, I think I’d like to believe she was still here with me. I just don’t.”

“It is not about beliefs, Hoshi-kun. Ghosts are certainly real. There are many cultural aspects to cover in the context of life after death, but spirits certainly do exist.”

“Hmph,” Hoshi looks back down, dragging his hat over his eyes. He’s not quite scowling, but the near playful air that had briefly flitted between them is gone. “You’re more stubborn than you look. Well, I’m not here for a fight. Ghosts are real to you, and I have nothing else to say to that.”

“And I have nothing but due respect for your opinion. So there are no ghosts in your life. You do not sense them, yet you grieve them. How long does grief last, Hoshi-kun? One might say such pains can last for eternity.”

“That’s pushing it. You don’t even live for eternity,” he murmured. “A lifetime is the limit. Only one life. Besides, even then, it’s not like you can get better from grieving. You only learn how to deal with it.”

“Ahh… how interesting you put it that way. You speak of it like an incurable disease.”

“Isn’t it?” Hoshi asks. “It’s not like you can argue otherwise. You said so yourself. You’re always feeling it.”

“Moving on is always an option, you know, as much as I personally do not understand it.”

“After death?” Hoshi smiles wryly. “Perhaps. People can be pretty cold about it. Moving on… well, some deaths, maybe. But not after losing someone you love. There’s no getting over that. Even if you look better and live better — which you should — I still don’t think that the grief of it ever really goes away.”

“Ah, love,” Shinguuji echoes. “That is the moving factor, yes? Love, which cannot be described in words and only felt. Such an intense, wonderful force...”

“I guess.” He replies, noncommittal in the shrug of his small shoulders, and Shinguuji thinks something about it makes him seem even smaller. “But what would I know about love? Everyone I love is dead.”

“But their souls live on, Hoshi-kun. Though they may not be here, that does not mean that they cannot be loved and cannot love you.”

“I want to see them.” Hoshi says quietly. “Even one last time, to have her hand in mine, I’d—” He shuts himself down. “Well, it doesn’t matter. It’s impossible now. It’s like I wake up every day waiting for her to return but she never does.”

“Of course, I understand that.” He says. “However… I prefer to keep matters of the heart within, don’t you?” Shinguuji rests his palm over his chest. “Love transcends what is physical, and that is one of the most beautiful things about it. Even if your loved one is not here, they will always be in your heart.”

“Maybe.” Hoshi sighs. “Well, there’s no use dwelling on it. Crying over spilled milk, and all that.”

“Kukuku… you are fond of idioms, Hoshi-kun,” Shinguuji observes rather amusedly. “I believe this makes you appear quite wise.”

“Well, I’d like to think so.” Hoshi replies, turning his gaze away again. “You end up learning a lot of things living a life like mine.”

“If it is no bother to you, I would like to hear more of this eventful life you have led thus far.”

“Another time.” Hoshi promises. 

Apple finished, he rises to his feet, rusted core hanging loosely from his hand. 

“It was wonderful to speak with you, Hoshi-kun,” Shinguuji tells him. “I quite enjoyed it. I do hope you learned something from our encounter, as I have learned from you.”

Hoshi rolls his hat to the side and answers, “You’ve still got a ways to go.”

* * *

Still further than Hoshi himself had left to go, Shinguuji muses to himself soon after. It must have been days again, or somewhere near it, but it felt far too soon to quantify time in such limited terms. Hoshi, here one minute and gone the next. 

It’s a rather bitter thing, hindsight. 

For the next time Shinguuji sees him, he isn’t alive.

The anthropologist smiles behind his mask at the macabre sight of blood and bones and water.

“My, my, Hoshi-kun.” He chuckles. “ _I’m_ the naïve one, you said?”

“So I’m a ghost. Big deal,” Hoshi says, hovering near him. “Figures I’d have to become one to believe it.”

“And do you believe it?”

“Not really,” He replies. He lands on his feet to take in the wreck of the gymnasium — that terrible failure of a magic show — instead of looking Shinguuji’s way. In fact, his gaze slowly comes to touch everything except him. It’s colder than Shinguuji is used to it being here, but he doesn’t mind. 

“Oh? Why do you say that?”

“Well, to be honest, I don’t think I even exist anymore. I think you made me up. Because you miss me already.” Hoshi finally looks back at him, eyes hollow. “You really are naïve.”

Shinguuji only laughs.

  
  



End file.
